Work Text:
There wasn't a lot to do in the warehouse if you weren’t the Riddler. Mostly the place contained just the Riddlers workspace, storage, a back room where he would conduct any meetings with other rouges if that were to ever arise, and a couple stray desks which were placed close to each exit and entrance. The theory being you supposed, was to simultaneously guard the doors and work on whatever task the Riddler gave you. The desks were for the select few he deemed smart enough to even think about touching his precious trophies and puzzles. You were one of those select few.
You were working at your desk, doing some menial labor scrubbing dirt off the mechanics of… something… when the Riddler came stomping in. He was clearly upset, and judging by how silent he was and how loud his walk was, something bad happened. When he passed, his finger violently jutted out at you.
“You. With me.” The usual lift in his voice was completely gone. You immediately followed him, wiping the grime onto your pants as you walked.
He led you into the back room, the only enclosed space in the whole warehouse, his “office” as he calls it, and stands in the middle of the room, anxiously tapping his cane on his shoulder as you closed the door behind you. When he hears the click of the lock, it’s as if he explodes, but not quite in the way you expected.
“I’ll kill him, y/n. I swear I’ll wring his neck.” He spins towards you mimicking choking someone out as best he can while still holding his cane in one hand. He has a wild look in his eye and you notice his gaze avoids yours. It jerks off to the side to stare absently at one of the far walls in the brief pause between sentences.
“Kill who? What happened?” You ask, trying to put the prices together with what little information he’s given you.
“The Batman! He- He- Some fucking civilian tipped him off about one of the puzzle pieces and he destroyed it! The whole riddle isn’t even finished yet and now one of the key pieces is gone. It messes up the whole plan!” His voice is steadily rising as he wildly swings his arms around.
“I should have planned for this! I did plan for this! And yet somehow-“ The cane swings a little too close to your face and you grab it, gently pulling it from his hand. “Somehow that bat brain still manages to fuck it up!”
“You can’t control everything, sometimes the dependent variable becomes an independent variable.” As you talk, you slowly start moving your hands up and down, as you’ve seen him do on occasion in short bursts when he’s overwhelmed with emotion. A soft smile spreads across your face when he starts to mimic you, seemingly subconsciously, and you watch as tension eases from him.
“That metaphor hardly makes sense.” He growls.
“Hey, I’m trying.” He huffs at your response. His gaze settles above your head as he continues to flap his hands and rock soothingly in place.
“I’m so stupid, fuck. This was something I could’ve planned for. A simple solution and I didn’t even… What’s the point of pretending when I make mistakes like this. I'm worthless, I'm awful.” His hands move to start bumping aggressively against the sides of his head, though still consciously withholding his strength so as to not truly hurt himself. You lead him to the mostly empty desk in the corner, and settle on top of it. Gently grabbing his wrists you pull them towards you, you leave a soft kiss on one of the veins under the lip of his glove.
“Now where did all that come from, Eddie? You know that's not true.” You press your lips to the other wrist now and look up at him through your lashes. You weren’t expecting eye contact, the kissing was already a lot of stimulus you were sure, but you could see his face softening and that was enough.
“Eddie?” You say again, making sure you had his attention, that his mind wasn’t clouding him those awful things. A low hum was the reply.
“Eddie, you know those things aren’t true right?” He hesitates but gives you a nod. You know he did so more to get you to stop pressing the issue than a confirmation of him actually believing it. You nip at his wrist and he grunts, lightly pulling at his wrist. You wrap your legs around his to keep him there.
“Edward. You need to say it.” He huffs out a sigh and turns his head. You wait, patiently kissing his wrists and hands.
“I’m not stupid, I’m not awful.”
“And…?”
“And I’m not… worthless.” He whispers, like he’s at war with his own voice. You smile and you unwrap your legs from his, giving him room to escape if he needed but instead he leaned further into you.
“Now let’s see what we can do about that lost puzzle.”